


Window of My Mind

by mar106



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Returning Home, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mar106/pseuds/mar106
Summary: Harrow's headed home. Someone is waiting for her.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Song is [_Window of My Mind_ by Chris Hadfield](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPtnAdsQgn4). Yes, _that_ Chris Hadfield. The astronaut. Guy also makes pretty good music, which is wild.

_It was 1 AM when this bus left the station,  
_ _Sure has been a long time headed west.  
But my life just couldn't stand more complication._  
_I had to do what I knew was best._

Harrow cracked her neck and shifted slightly in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable spot. It didn't work. Harrow glanced out her window and saw only her own reflection, which she glared at. It looked odd without the paint, but she couldn't wear it out here, and a mask was the next-best thing.

_And a morning on a Greyhound isn't pretty,  
_ _The sunrise cuts into the dreams of night._  
_Long shadows make a stage-set of some city,  
_ _Bus keeps rumbling 'til it's out of sight._

Harrow hated buses. They were cramped and uncomfortable, and had altogether too many people. She was headed home though, which was nice.

_Through the window of this bus I see the prairies,  
__Through the window of this bus I see the early morning dew,  
__But it's when I close my eyes that I see clearly,  
_ _Through the window of my mind I see you._

Someone was waiting for her. At home. Harrow knew that. Who was it, though? (Ugh, her head was beginning to hurt. Harrow hated buses.) She had red hair. Short red hair, right? And a crooked smile. And sunglasses. 

No, that wasn't right. She had Avi-

* * *

_It's 9 AM when we pull into Camborne,  
__Stiffly climb out down onto the ground._

Harrow walked, aching, over to the cabstop. Catching her reflection in a bit of glass, she glared at her paint-less face. She couldn't wear it out here, but a mask was the next-best thing.

_Hail a cab, the last part of this travel,  
__Not sure if I'm lost or I am found._

When she finally got into the cab and closed the door, Harrow sighed. She hated cities. They were stinky, and loud, and had altogether too many people. She was headed home though, which was nice.

_Through the window of this cab I see the mountains,_  
_Through the window of this cab I see the early morning dew,_  
_But it's when I close my eyes that I see clearly,_  
_Through the window of my mind I see you._

Someone was waiting for her. At home. Harrow knew that. Who was it, though? (Ugh, her head was beginning to hurt. Harrow hated cities.) She had muscles. And a sword. A rapier, right?

No. She had a two-ha-

* * *

_And the cabbie pulls up slowly like I told him,  
_ _I look up, and I see you and I cry._

When Harrow looks out the window, something in her brain that has been fraying, fraying, fraying finally snaps. She shoves open the door of the cab, and races up the steps, practically barreling into the person waiting there.

_You're curled up on the porch, two cups of coffee,  
_ _and a smile that looks about a mile wide._

That two-hander, leaning against the railing. Those strong, strong arms, which are once again wrapped around her. Those shoulders, which she presses her face into to hide her tears. She pulls back and those hands, calloused and yet to gentle, cup her face and wipe away her tears. Harrow looks up at her.

_Through the window of my mind I see the prairie,_  
_Through the window of my mind I see the early morning dew,  
__'Cause it's when I close my eyes that I see clearly,  
__Through the window of my mind I see you._

Red hair, buzzed on the sides but allowed to grow long on the top, making the bangs flop into her eyes sometimes. Aviators, silver-rimmed and black as the Tomb. That smile, for once not crooked, but wider than she has ever seen it.

They meet halfway in a kiss which was everything Harrow had ever wanted and yet left her wanting more. When she breaks the kiss, there is a look her face which seems bittersweet. 

"It's time to wake up, Harrow," says Gideon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda feel bad for writing an ending like this 'cause I've been on the other side and it HURTS. I wrote another chapter though which should make y'all feel a bit better hopefully.
> 
> Scene at the end inspired by [this wonderful piece of art by ieafy](https://ieafy.tumblr.com/post/630906908815065088/need-them-to-do-this):  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

Harrow sits straight up in her bed in the Mithraeum, gasping, sobbing, wanting to wail a single word over and over and over into the pitch-darkness. She remembers. She repeats a litany of Gideon, Gideon, Gideon in her head as she is bombarded with memories. She does not notice anything is happening until a hand cups her cheek and begins to wipe away her tears. 

Her hand. Her own hand. And yet it is not her hand, it is her hand. 

She clutches her arm with her other hand and sobs harder, falling onto her side and curling up around herself.

_Through the window of my mind I see you._


End file.
